Today is the day of Ron’s meeting. The day I get to show if I’m going to be a part of this outfit or not. My body is humming with tension. I can’t help but feel as if today is going to make or break me, in more ways than one.

Ron has managed to avoid me for the last few days. You would think the distance would enforce my feelings against joining him, but it’s been the opposite. I miss him and I don’t know why.

Bree, Declan and some of the other guys have mostly made me feel welcome. Jake still stares at me like he wants to kill me, and he probably does, but he hasn’t come after me. His boyfriend, Greg, even smiled at me once, I feel like maybe Jake could come around if I prove to be a team player. But is this what I really want? I feel so conflicted. Belonging to something, anything, is a dream I gave up a long time ago. A dream I gave up for a reason. Not since the last foster home I was placed in have I ever hoped to belong to anything or anyone. With a shuddering breath, I shake those memories away and look at myself in the mirror.

The bathroom attached to my prison of a bedroom doesn’t show me the lower half of my body but the top half doesn’t disappoint. I’ve never been this dressed up in my life. Bree curled my hair, the long, light blond strands cascading down my shoulders. I didn’t put on much makeup, just a hint of eyeliner, thick mascara and dark red lipstick. My lips contrast with my pale skin and the beautiful black dress. I feel like a woman, I feel grown up. It’s a new feeling for me, I think part of me has always considered myself still a child despite having been on my own for so long. Ron told me he would come for me in an hour, and I can sense time is almost up, despite not having a clock. I feel nervous and I know it’s not just the meeting making me feel that way. I’m both excited and terrified to be seen looking this way. For Ron to see me this way. It’s a new kind of vulnerable, feeling like a fraud dressed in the queen’s clothes.

I stumble my way back into the bedroom in the four-inch heels Bree brought me yesterday after we confirmed size. I’ve never worn anything in my life but sneakers. I totter like a newborn calf as I barely make it the bed, falling flat on my face into the mattress. I quickly jump up, smoothing out the front of my hair and praying to high heaven I didn’t mess up my makeup. I pull one foot out of the death traps passing as shoes and rub my toes. If this meeting doesn’t kill me, then these heels will.

There’s a knock on the door and I grudgingly slide the shoe back on before slowly rising to my feet.

Ron opens the door before I reach it, walking in and quickly closing it behind him. Despite the fact I’ve been on good behavior since my fight with Jake, he still clearly doesn’t trust me. I awkwardly make my way to him until we’re only a few inches apart. Ron inhales sharply when he gets his first full view of my dress as I stand. He lowers his head and I’m disappointed for a moment, thinking he isn’t as impressed as I wanted him to be. I feel like a stupid little girl playing dress up until I realize he’s still looking. He just wanted to take me in one end to the other. He looks at my feet, giving another sharp exhale before his eyes rise to meet mine. There’s a heat in them that wasn’t there before. I know he can see the same in mine despite my efforts to hide it. He looks powerful tonight. He’s wearing a dark three-piece suit, his cufflinks are covered in diamonds, glinting in the crappy overhead lighting. Everything about him screams dominance.

This is a man in charge. This is the Ron of legends. This man will make your life, or break it.

I can’t help but be drawn to him, moving even closer. You could barely fit a sheet of paper between us now. My heels have made our height almost even, it’s fascinating seeing his face this close when we’re not trying to kill each other for once. He inhales deeply, looking me up and down one more time. I don’t know how much he can see, our close proximity doesn’t give his head much room to lower.

“Ron …” I start to speak, unsure of what I want to say. My eyes plead with him for … something … anything.

“You’re too young for this,” he mumbles, never taking his eyes from mine. “Too young for me.” It’s almost as if he’s talking to himself and not me. I decide to speak anyway.

“I’m not too young to kill a man,” I retort, the side of my mouth rising in a smirk. Despite feeling so out of my depth I can’t control my mouth. I see Ron’s nostrils flare and his pupils dilate in response to my words.

“Now’s really not the fuckin’ time to remind me of that,” he grumbles. Despite his noise of protest, his eyes move to my lips. My breath hitches and suddenly I know I want this. Whatever this is.

“Kiss me,” I order him. My smirk turns into a full-blown smile when I see his eyebrows rise in shock at my words. Ron isn’t a man used to being bossed around.

“Let’s get something straight.” He moves, closing the miniscule distance between us, wrapping an arm around my back. He jerks me up against him, his gaze so intense it takes everything I have to maintain eye contact. I can feel the hard, long length of him against my lower stomach and it makes me shudder.

“When we’re like this,” he kisses me once, lightly across the lips, “when we are anywhere.” He kisses me again, this time longer, just teasing my bottom lip with his tongue. “I give the orders. Now kiss me.” He doesn’t give me time to respond, pressing his mouth to mine. This kiss is deep, wet and powerful. My first real kiss. His tongue invades my mouth. The stubble on his face scratches, but only in the best way.

Everything south of my stomach clenches and I let out a small moan. He growls in response wrapping his free hand in my hair, his other hand resting on my ass, pushing me onto his leg that he’s placed between mine. My skirt is riding up but I don’t care, as he urges me forward in small, rocking motions. I can’t control it. I’ve never experienced anything like this. The feeling of his hands, his masculine smell, the pleasure the friction from his leg is causing. My natural instinct takes over as I rub against him and I shatter, spectacularly. My body gives small shudders and my legs shake uncontrollably. If Ron wasn’t holding me, I would be collapsed on the floor.

“What the fuck? Did you just come?” Ron pulls back, the hand in my hair pulling my head back at an angle. His voice sounds startled but his eyes show a mixture of amusement and arousal.

“Maybe,” I grumble, grabbing his tie to drag his face to mine again.

“Have you done this before?” He gives me a hard look, holding his face away from mine.

“Of course,” I lie, still yanking on his tie. He’s unmoving.

“Lie to me again and I’ll put you over my knee and spank you,” he warns me. Well, I think he means to warn me, but that’s not much of a threat if I’m being honest. Something about Ron trying to hold me down, to punish me, is sexier than it should be.

“Define this.” I decide to play with him.

“You know what the fuck I mean. Cut the shit.” He starts to step even farther away from me.

“Okay, okay. No, I haven’t. That wasn’t my first kiss, mostly, and as for anything else … no.” I feel my cheeks tinge red. What the hell? I’m not someone you would consider bashful.

I swear I can see the bulge in his pants jump when I basically tell him I’m a virgin. He growls, low and deep in his throat before lunging at me.

He spins me around, pressing his body against mine so hard I hit the wall. My skirt rolls to my waist as I wrap one leg around him. He starts thrusting against me, the pressure exquisite against my overly-sensitive skin. His mouth covering mine, our tongues fighting for dominance.

“Dad … OH WHAT THE FUCK!” Bree screams, she must have just walked in. I never heard the door open, too far gone to be aware of what is happening around me. That’s never happened before. An uncomfortable feeling settles in my gut. Ron shouldn’t have the power to reduce my world to just him.

Bree doesn’t leave instead simply walking all the way in, shutting the door behind her, and turning to face it.

“Shit, Bree, get out of here,” Ron says, standing up and backing away from me.

“Thank you,” I say sarcastically, adjusting my dress so my underwear is no longer on display, leaning against the wall where he left me.

“Now? Seriously? Weren’t you the one that just chewed everyone’s ass out downstairs about being focused tonight?” Bree complains, still facing the dark wood of the door.

“I don’t answer to you. And when did your mouth get so bad? You’ve been hanging around Jake too much,” Ron complains, motioning for me to leave my stance against the wall.

“What are you gonna do? Spank me?” Bree hisses, turning around.

I can’t stop the snort that comes from me before I can stop it.

“Oh, what the fuck!” Bree throws her hands up in exasperation.

“It’s time for your meeting. You’re probably not going to like who is here instead of Tony.” She looks at her father expecting something.

“Are you fucking kidding me? He sent that fuckwad Alex?” Ron booms. Ah, so that was what she was waiting for.

“Even better. He sent no one. Some guy named Abramo.” She smirks. I think Bree likes watching her dad lose it. I guess I would too if I knew I was the one person safe from his wrath.

“Let’s get this shit over with,” Ron says through clenched teeth as he straightens his tie. “You,” he points at Bree,” get the fuck behind that bar and stick close to Declan. If bullets start flying, like the last time we tried this shit, I want you with him.”

Bree rolls her eyes but nods her agreement.

“You.” This time he points to me. “Show time.” With that, he marches out of the room, his Boss persona back in place.

Looking at him now you wouldn’t believe we just almost had sex against a wall. I hope I look the same, but I don’t have time to check. I march out behind him and soon we enter the bar. I see about five strange guys sitting around three tables that have been pushed together in the center of the room. It looks like a wedding banquet from The Godfather or some other cheesy mafia movie, to be honest. Bree must have ordered catered food, it’s all spread out across the tables, there are places set, bottles of wine lined up with empty glasses all in a row, reflecting the dim bar lighting.

“Good luck,” Bree whispers behind me before walking back to her place with Declan behind the bar. Poor guy looks like he’s going to have a stroke until she’s right next to him. He wraps one of those long arms around her and I give a wistful sigh. Ron is plenty hot to me, but Declan, that guy is a breed all his own.